


Hunger: Ignored. Snacks: Strategically Placed.

by Kimyomo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F r i e n d s, Hes (not quite) doing his best, Hunger tolerance, No particular year, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18494059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimyomo/pseuds/Kimyomo
Summary: Sometimes Harry forgets to take care of himself. That's ok, though, he has a bit of help.





	Hunger: Ignored. Snacks: Strategically Placed.

**Author's Note:**

> I want dorm/common room fluff so I'm doing it myself. I kinda made Harry like school more because it was important to the fic so whoops

   It wasn't that he didn't think he deserved food, it was just that he was busy a lot of the time. He didn't pass his classes by doing _nothing,_ c'mon, he's not as bad as ~~Proffesor~~  Snape says. So he always had _something_ to do. He might have homework, or want to do some extra credit just in case. Sue him. He finally had a chance to do his best in school and he _refused_ to fail anyone's expectations. In fact, he could probably do a little better on that one spell in transfiguration.

He decided to skip dinner that night.

* * *

 

   Hermione, Ron and Neville were concerned to say the least. The first two, as Harry's closest friends, had noticed Harry skipping out on more meals as time went on. The latter just liked to make sure everyone was doing okay. It seemed all the others didn't notice or just plain didn't care. 

One night, the back-breaking piece of straw finally fell. Harry wasn't at dinner.

Again.

Neville had had enough. He picked up his plate and walked right on over to Hermione and Ron's spot. Well, no, that makes it sound all grand and brave and courageous. It was really more of a nervous shuffle. But it was for a friend, so he was willing to push past his anxieties. He sat down and spoke, knowing that he _definitely_ had their attention just for approaching them.

"Uh... guys? I'm worried about Harry. I may have an idea, too, if you wanna hear it."

The red-head threw his arms up, exasperated. Neville flinched back a bit. Bloody _finally!_ We've been trying to come up with something for _ages._ "

Hermione rolled her eyes, a signature move. She'd no doubt heard numerous complaints by now. "Oh, don't exaggerate, Ron. It's only been a week," she turned her attention to him, "We'd love to hear your idea, Neville."

Neville cleared his throat. He honestly didn't think he'd get this far. "Right, well, my granny used to make me read a load of psychology books when we thought I was a squib. Wanted me to do something respectable, even if it _was_ in the muggle world. Anyway, I read about the subconscious a lot. Something peculiar about it is if you put a snack or something near a person when they're deep in thought, they'll just kinda start to read it on autopilot. Fascinating, really."

Ron and Hermione gawked. That was the most either of them had ever heard him speak in one go. And it was a legitimately good plan, too. Harry tended to zone out more than others when he studied.

They started working out the kinks. They _would_ succeed.

* * *

 

   Harry was sitting in his favorite arm chair, the one with the little table next to it. On the table was a stack of papers and a book, with only a small clear spot. He was using a book as a kind of clipboard and attempting to do an unnecessarily difficult potions essay. It was pretty slow going. What he didn't notice was a diabolical (in his later words, anyway) trio of Griffindors. They walked through the painting hole, the girl carrying a small bag of apple slices.

All three were praying that this would work.

As they creeped over to Harry's chair, he suddenly had a fit of inspiration and his quill began to _fly_ across the page. Perfect, this would make their job much easier. Hermione finally arrived at the table and put the bag down, the opening facing Harry. He never turned even the slightest degree.

The three Griffindors walked backwards to the coach to watch and wait. And then, a few minutes later, it happened.

Harry's arm reached out, went through the bag's opening, and came back out with an apple slice. It then delivered the slings to Harry's mouth. The three looked at each other, huge smiles on their faces, ecstatic and proud. They didn't even use magic for this!

They got back to whatever they were doing and smirked smugly whenever they saw Harry eat a bite.

* * *

 

   Ron hadn't noticed before, but Harry was..... pretty bloody thin. Well, thinner than normal. A couple months ago he had _some_ meat on his bones, but now when they were changing into their pajamas (it took a _long_ time before Harry changed in front of them but he does now) Ron could see his friend's ribs decently clearly.

He made a mental note to tell Hermione and Neville to give Harry more fattening snacks from now on. Honestly, Hermione's hand could wrap around Harry's wrist, easy.

* * *

 

   It took over a year, but Harry had found out. He couldn't even be upset, it was just such a _nice_ thing to do. Really, how dare these people care about him so much.

They'd been feeding him. And he went along with it, even if it was unwittingly. The thing he regretted most was honestly making them worry. But he couldn't do anything about it now, and it had become a sort of game to them anyway. _Who can be the loudest without snapping Harry out of his daze_ or _who could feed Harry the weirdest things._  Stuff like that. Plus, it made them feel clever and cunning when they fed his spaced out self. So he'd let them continue, he wouldn't even bring it up.

God, and he thought _he_ was the one who was almost sorted into Slytherin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope I did the meme in the title right ha


End file.
